“It spreads like wildfire. . Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. “Our business here is the right way. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. He was into the passage in time to see her slip into another chamber at the end. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Good-bye.
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